you a thousand different ways today.” Again the words slur together, and I know we can’t do this right now, not while he’s drunk, so I maneuver us towards the sofa.
“There won’t be any of that this evening. You’re drunk as a skunk and I am way too tired.” I shove him until his ass is against the sofa, and then pry his fingers from my ass. I move away, my body betraying me the longer I stay close to him. I want nothing more than to give into his dirty words, his rough touch.
His eyes are heavy, glassy and full of emotion, and his voice slurs slightly when he speaks. “You’re more than I deserve. More than any man deserves.” He blinks up at me as I take his shoes off and lay him down on the couch. Why did he drink so much?
Is he really okay?
“It’s a little late to say that, don’t you think? We’re going to make a baby together.” I snicker, the smile fading from my face as soon as I think back to the dream I was having just a few minutes ago.
“That’s why I don’t deserve you…” He trails off, his eyes close, and I wonder if he passed out. Grabbing the blanket off the back of the couch, I cover him up, but when I look up, he’s staring at me. “You deserve a man that’s going to marry you. One that will wake up every day and eat your pussy, because that’s what a man should do for a woman he loves.”
I smile sadly, because Reed doesn’t think he’s good enough, and this might not work out between us. “Funnily enough, that’s not the first thing on my ‘things a husband should do’ list.”
His tired eyes meet mine, and he yawns. “Yeah, but he’ll be able to love you and a baby.”
Reed wants this baby so bad, and for all we know, I won’t be able to give him one. I didn’t tell him about the problems my mom had getting pregnant with me. She and my dad tried for years, and finally had to do fertility treatments. Mom told me that every month when her period arrived she’d sit on the bathroom floor and cry. What if that’s what happens with us? I can’t shake the worry after the nightmare I had tonight.
Even though I know he probably won’t remember, I can’t stop myself from asking, “What happens if I can’t give you a baby?”
Reed blinks owlishly, then sits up and pulls me into his lap. His reflexes are fast for a man that smells as if he’s consumed the state’s entire supply of whiskey. “What do you mean, sweet girl? Do you not want to have my baby anymore?” His eyebrows draw together like he’s trying to understand, and I shake my head, wanting to kiss him so badly it almost hurts.
“I mean, what if I can’t give you a baby? I want to give you one, but what if my body decides I can’t?” I shouldn’t be discussing this with Reed while he’s drunk but I can’t help it. My fear is spiraling out of control, because the dream was so real, so vivid; I can still feel the panic prickling against my skin.
“Practice makes perfect.” He wiggles his eyebrows up and down, and when he reaches for me, trying to pull me closer, I gently push him down.
“That’s not what I mean, Reed.” I roll my eyes at his one track mind. “We can talk about it later, when you’re sober.” Or never. I try to get off of his lap but he holds me in place, his arms wrapping tighter around my midsection and forcing me to stay in place.
“I’m not letting you go.” His voice is petulant, and he sounds more like the little boy he was than the dominant man he is now. “You’re sad and afraid, and I want to touch you. I long to touch you, so please, please let me hold you.” Tears swim in Reed’s eyes, and I wonder if this is going to become a common thing between us. This is twice one of us has shown up at the other’s houses, speaking sober words while we’re drunk. I stare down at him, unable to deny him anything when he’s looking at me like I’m his entire world. Plus, I want him to hold me while I sleep in my bed, his bed, wherever he is.
“Okay, but just this